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Summary
Riku's hands were still covered in swipes and smears of grease, but he put his arms around Sora without touching and squeezed as best he could.
Sora squeezed back. He was practically swimming in Riku's long-sleeved work shirt, which he'd fastened up to his chin against the cold. When he drew back, the Riku embroidered on the chest pocket in white thread seemed to shine in the disappearing light.
"So…" Sora said, undoing the top button. "What do I owe you for the spark plugs?"
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